


A Father's Struggle

by GoodWitchesOfOz



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Background Relationships, F/F, F/M, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 05:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15308064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodWitchesOfOz/pseuds/GoodWitchesOfOz
Summary: Tonraq knew parenting would be tough. But his daughter was confident, peerless, and brave; she handled every obstacle with aplomb. It was Tonraq himself who struggled.Written for the incredibly talented Writerleft.





	A Father's Struggle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Writerleft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerleft/gifts).



> I've always liked Tonraq as a character, and my fascination with fanfiction of characters' childhoods led to this story. This fic is essentially two separate stories grafted on top of each other: Tonraq and Senna's discovery of Korra's Avatar status, and Tonraq coming to terms with his daughter's choices in life nearly 20 years later. There is some Korrasami in the second half, but it's not the focus. I considered posting this as two chapters, but I didn't want to interrupt the flow.
> 
> Enjoy.

Tonraq opened the front door and squinted into the howling storm.

“She should’ve been back two hours ago,” he muttered. The warrior turned and strode over to the fire. He fed it a piece of wood, lips pursed, and paced around the living room. 

Senna was  _ never  _ late.

Hail pelted the door and hammered the walls. Tonraq’s throat constricted. What if she were lost? What if the storm had blown her hat off, and his wife was shivering out in the tundra somewhere, her face turning blue—

“Da-da!” Korra shuffled into the room, rubbing her eyes. The three-year-old let out a huge yawn, her shirt riding up over an ample brown belly. She looked around the room, frowning. “Mommy?”

Tonraq scooped up his only child and sat in front of the fire. “Mommy’s getting more wood. She’ll be back soon.”

Korra rocked back and forth in his lap. “We  _ pengin. _ ”

Tonraq sighed. He had promised to take her penguin sledding, but this storm had come out of nowhere. “I know, sweetheart. We just can’t go out right now. When the weather calms down, we’ll go on the best penguin sledding trip ever. OK?”

She leaped out of his lap and huffed. “You said. I nap!” 

Oh, no. Her nap had lasted a full two hours; in his worry, Tonraq had forgotten to wake her. Now Korra wasn’t going to sleep at all tonight, and she was well-rested for her inevitable tantrum. Wonderful.

The warrior held out his hands. Of course his daughter had inherited his own stubborn temper. “We can’t go outside, Korra. I’m sorry.”

Korra stamped over to the fire, her little figure black against it. “Aang did!”

Tonraq frowned. Avatar Aang had gone penguin sledding? At the South Pole? He wracked his brain but couldn’t come up with the story she was talking about. Senna probably had told her at some point.

She spun around to face Tonraq. “You said!” Korra jabbed a finger at his face—and a stream of yellow fire shot towards him.

Tonraq reflexively punched right, drawing water from a nearby pot. The water blocked most of the blast, but Tonraq’s face still seared from the heat. As the yellow glow faded, his heart sped up.  _ Fire _ ? Was he dreaming?

Tonraq stepped around the puddle of water, gingerly touching his face. Korra held her arms away from her sides. She looked up at him and backed away.

“Da-da hurt!” Korra slid along the wall and ran into her room. 

“Korra!” Tonraq ran to follow her when the front door opened and Senna stumbled inside, pink-cheeked, a bundle of wood under her arm. Tonraq spun around and ran towards her.

“Senna!” Tonraq relieved his wife of the wood, brushed snow from her coat, and led her to the fireplace. She sat down heavily and exhaled.

“Are you alright? I was so scared you were lost,” he breathed. The wind howled at the door.

Senna leaned into his shoulder. “I’m fine, I just had to camp out for a bit once the winds became too much to walk through.”

Tonraq sat beside her and rubbed some warmth into her shoulders. He glanced at Korra’s door. Tonraq had learned the hard way that his daughter didn’t like others around when she was upset; he should let her cool down before trying to console her. 

He stared at the crackling fire, which was darker than the flames Korra had jabbed at him. That was a powerful fire blast--his water punch had been barely large enough to block it, and the heat had hurt him through the liquid.

“Why is the floor all wet?”

“It’s...umm,” Tonraq ran a hand through his hair, “it’s, because, well—Korra’s a firebender.” The words felt surreal rolling off his tongue.

Senna’s eyebrows flew into her hairline. A piece of snow fell off her sleeve. “Come again?”

“She was worried about you and mad that I couldn’t take her penguin sledding. She got angry and shot a fireball at me. It happened right before you walked in.”

 

Senna shot up in her seat. “She bent fire at you? Are you hurt?” She scanned his face. Her fingers hovered over his slightly burnt nose and cheek.

“You need a healer, or at least some water.” The housewife walked to the water bucket; Tonraq followed her. Now might be a good time to check on Korra.

“Why didn’t you take care of this before?” Senna demanded, plastering a wet rag onto his cheek.

“It all happened so fast, I couldn’t even think,” Tonraq mumbled, holding the cloth. “Besides, it’s not that bad of a burn. We can grab a healer after the storm stops and Korra’s okay.”

Senna nodded reluctantly, sat back by the fireplace, and passed a hand over her eyes. “How could she have—? None of your relatives...?”

“I’m Northern Water Tribe through and through.”

She stared at him. “All my ancestors were from the South Pole.”

He knew that. He also knew that Korra was Senna’s baby. There was only one other explanation, but it stuck in Tonraq’s throat. He saw in Senna’s eyes that she knew what he was thinking.

“I would  _ never, ever  _ cheat on you, Tonraq.”

He reached for her shoulder. “I know, sweetie.”

She swiped his hand away. “Then why even entertain the idea?”

Stony silence. The wind roared outside their large igloo; the fire crackled in defiance.

Tonraq got up and paced the length of the room. His heart beat painfully. Korra had never any shown signs of bending water. All fantasies Tonraq had of teaching her water-punching or igloo-building swirled away. If Korra had been a non-bender, he could at least teach her how to fight. But their daughter was a  _ firebender _ . Tonraq didn’t know anything about using fire… 

“Maybe it’s a mutation,” Senna finally suggested.

“Hmm.” Tonraq stared into the fire. “I don’t think that happens, though.”

“How are we going to train her? What will the other villagers say?”

Before Tonraq could even consider the last question, Korra’s door burst open and a pudgy blur crashed into Senna.

“Mommy!” The three-year-old’s eyes were wide. “Wind got you!”

Senna scooped the girl into her lap. “I’m right here, sweetheart,” Senna murmured. Korra snuggled into her mother’s frame and stared at Tonraq.

“Da-da hurt.” 

His heart twinged at her guilty face. “It’s okay, you didn’t hurt me.” The warrior sat down and held out his hands to the toddler. “See? Daddy’s alright.” 

Korra squinted at him and poked his cloth-covered cheek. Tonraq tried and failed to avoid wincing.

“Korra, sweetheart, don’t touch that,” Senna ordered, pulling her away. But Tonraq let the rag fall. Korra’s lip trembled.

“Tonraq!” Sennna admonished. “Why traumatize her?”

“She’s confused,” the warrior muttered, “and besides, sooner or later she’ll see the burn.” Plus, his daughter always seemed like a tough kid.

To Tonraq’s surprise, the three-year-old didn’t cry. Korra whimpered and wriggled out of her mother’s lap, crawling onto Tonraq instead. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder.

“Sorry, Da-da,” Korra wailed, “Pengin sledding.”

Tonraq held his child close and kissed her head. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured.

She pulled away and glared at him. “No!” She reached out for his burned face, and the water from his discarded rag rose to coat her hand. Senna gasped in front of him. The toddler touched his cheek, and the water glowed. His angry skin cooled and relaxed. Tonraq closed his eyes in relief.

Korra slid her hand across his nose, calming the burn, and Tonraq’s eyes snapped open.

She’s  _ healing  _ me.

Her hand dropped. Tonraq touched his face; his burn was completely gone. He nearly fell into the fire. The warrior locked eyes with his wife, who was staring at their daughter as if she had descended from the Spirit World.

“Da-da hurt?” Her fierce blue eyes flickered with something Tonraq had seen once before, as though there were other people looking at him through Korra’s eyes.

“Daddy’s doing fine,” he squeaked. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

A snort of laughter. “You should see your face, Tonraq,” Senna laughed, “it’s priceless.” Her eyes returned to their daughter and became serious.

He grumbled and buried his face in Korra’s hair. His heart was thumping again. 

“You’re  _ the Avatar, _ ” Tonraq whispered. 

His kid. 

Was the Avatar. 

What was he going to do?

\---------------

Nearly twenty years later, Tonraq still remembered that day like it was yesterday: the wind beating at their door, the burst of heat searing his face, Korra’s horror. His horror.

Of course, none of their lives were the same after that. They managed to hide Korra’s firebending, and later her earthbending, for a few years. But all it took was one backyard accident for the White Lotus to invade their little South Pole village like polar bear dogs tracking a scent, to imprison his daughter in an icy fortress. 

Once she released herself into the world, he tracked her progress through what few newspapers made their way to their edge of the world. At first, Korra was all power with no finesse, pride with little humility. She made nearly all the same mistakes Tonraq himself did, really. Just on a larger scale. Sneaking into pro-bending championships, challenging that councilman to a duel, probably pushing poor Tenzin to his breaking point over and over.

He and Senna changed. His wife withdrew, throwing herself into the daily management of their house, packed as it often was with villagers ironing out one dispute or another. Tonraq ruled their village and kept his struggles to himself.

All his life, Tonraq had been bound by tradition. Carry on the family name. Study to become king, a great warrior, brave and level-headed. He always was good at the former, the latter not so much. Tonraq always fit into the heavyhanded customs of the North, all elaborate palaces and ritualistic coming-of-age ceremonies. His own transition into adulthood had involved him killing a seal and dressing it in all the paraphernalia befitting the first official solo kill of the future king. When idiot Unalaq drove him out of his home by using Tonraq’s foolish mistakes against himself, Tonraq tried to relax. Things were calmer, more democratic in the South, and he did his best to accommodate this new way of life. He still held Council in his house, but it was more egalitarian, less rigid. But he always tried to stick to some of what he knew, tried to import some Northern customs here.

And now, his daughter was bound by a different tradition. But the White Lotus had barely bothered to educate him and Senna on what to expect, what to do, how to prepare for their daughter’s inevitable transformation into a living legend. Sure, they threw out some vague appeals to keeping the world in balance, mediating conflicts, spiritual harmony, blah blah. But it wasn’t anything Tonraq could touch or see, anything he could help with. His inability to influence his daughter’s life, to teach her that maybe honoring tradition could be helpful in times of conflict, frustrated him to no end. And Tonraq knew that whatever Avatar teachings she had been given actually helped. After all, unlocking airbending to defeat that Amon character required some sort of spiritual freedom, right? Wasn’t that what Tenzin was always preaching?

He had tried, when Korra came home periodically, to offer her some guidance. Told her to listen to Tenzin, to the White Lotus, to whatever traditions had been laid out before her. But Korra rebuffed his advice, repeatedly, and he worried. But even without his help, his girl transformed into someone incredible. She defeated his brother, brought back the airbenders, helped end Kuvira’s tyranny. All in a few short years.

And now he finds himself seated across the table from one Asami Sato.

\-------------------

“These seaweed noodles are excellent, Senna,” the heiress offers, flashing his wife a slightly nervous smile. With her expensive-looking coat draped over the back of one of their rough wooden chairs and her posture a bit too rigid, Miss Sato looks sorely out of place. 

“Thank you, dear,” Senna returns. “They’re Korra’s favorite.”

“Mmm-hmm,” his daughter mumbles, her cheeks bulging. Korra swallows. “S’all good stuff.”

Tonraq manages to smile at Korra. He can’t ignore how happy she looks, practically glowing. Especially when she looks at Asami. Something in his stomach churns.

Miss Sato glances at him, and her lipsticked smile falters. Tonraq can’t help but stare her down, this woman who stole his daughter’s heart. Years ago, apparently. Of course he’s heard of Asami Sato, head of Future Industries, daughter of the notorious Equalist CEO. But to see her in person, dating his daughter, Tonraq doesn’t know what to do with himself. The steam rising from his bowl suddenly feels like his daughter’s first fire punch--a sudden wave of heat, some life-changing revelation he doesn’t want.

Tonraq manages to slurp down the rest of his food and make clipped small talk, the gentle fire in the hearth doing little to ease the tension in his face. Korra, to her credit, doesn’t blow up at him, although her eyes flash when she looks at him. Tonraq excuses himelf as soon as he is able and steals out the back door.

The air outside of their igloo is so bitterly cold, he almost freezes onto the snow. Tonraq takes a few deep breaths, welcomes the sting.

His daughter is in love with a woman. It’s obvious. Her hand, steady and sure on the heiress’s back. The way his baby looks at her. His daughter taking for granted that they would be okay with it. That he would be okay with it.

Same-sex relationships were never discussed in his house. Or on the smooth streets of the Northern capital, or at school. Anywhere, really. The topic never crossed his mind, except for a few faint memories of one of his second cousins, who was gradually pushed out of the family by rumors that he had eloped with a man from one of the nearby villages. Tonraq had been around fifteen at the time when he overheard his parents muttering about the scandal of it all. At the time, of course, he had thought little of it. His cousin was just another one of those things best forgotten.

The smooth crashes of the ocean pull Tonraq out of his thoughts. He’s walked all the way to one of the cliffs overlooking the bay. Far away, a buoy bobs up and down against the moonlight.

Footsteps crunching in the snow. He knows who it is without turning around.

“It’s pretty cold,” his daughter mutters, burrowing deeper into her coat. Tonraq instinctively wraps an arm around her, but Korra shakes him off and walks to the edge of the cliff, her strong silhouette black against the moon.

“What happened to that Mako boy? He seemed nice enough.”

Her shoulders stiffen. That was not his best opener. “We weren’t right for each other. You know that.”

“I know, but…”

Korra turns. “But what, dad?”

His voice falters. But what indeed? 

“I didn’t--I just don’t want things to be hard for you.” After all, he can’t forget the way Korra reached up to touch his face after fighting Zaheer, struggling so hard against that damn poison.

Korra huffs, a puff of white. “No, dad. You don’t want things to be hard for you.”

Their conversations have always been like this: short and to the point. Feelings were never his or Korra’s strong suit. But he has to try, or he has a feeling that this night will end terribly. Tonraq sits on the snow, and after a brief hesitation, Korra follows suit.

He can’t bear to look at her. He stares out at the black ocean, and after a moment, so does she. The space between them is hard like ice. Their breaths mingle with the rush of the waves.

“This is just hard for me, you being with her,” Tonraq starts. “I’ve never...you’ve always been so sure, and I’ve always been stumbling after you. Every new thing is something new for me, and something already okay with you.”

Korra opens her mouth, but he keeps going. “Moving to the city, finding your own way as the Avatar. Becoming a pro-bender.” His mouth quirks upward, despite himself. “You’ve always been so quick to do things your own way. You don’t stop and think about what other people might think, how they might do it.”

“How people want me to do things.” The edge is back in Korra’s voice. “You’ve always wished you could go back to the North and do things ‘right.’ If I had done everything the way people wanted me to, I wouldn’t have left that compound until now!”

That stings. “I never wanted you in that compound.”

She sighs and looks at him. He can’t see her expression, but he can picture it. “I know, dad,” Korra continues, a bit softer. “But, I mean, listening to Tenzin and not being with Asami are--they’re hardly the same thing. You just want me to do one thing ‘right’ so that you can feel like a good ruler or something, I don’t know.”

“I do not want to feel like a good ruler!” Tonraq’s fists clench, despite his best efforts. “I just know that sometimes things are easier when there’s a path laid out for you. And I am incredibly proud of you,” he adds, “and everything you’ve done. How can I not be?”

Korra mirrors his growing temper by standing abruptly. “I’ve done well enough without a ‘path laid out for me.’ And anyway, my entire life is basically laid out for me--I do have Avatar duties, you know. I don’t spend all my time on vacation in the Spirit World. And I do all my duties just fine, even if people don’t always agree with how I do them!”

Her voice is far too loud for the still night. Korra turns away.

“I’ve got to get back to the house,” she says, and walks away from him. Tonraq struggles to his feet and catches up to her, placing a hand on her strong shoulder. She shrugs him off.

“Korra,” he tries, but his daughter doesn’t pause.

“I know you have your whole life basically planned out for you. I did, too, you know.”

She slows slightly.

“As the prince, my future was dictated to me since the day I was born. And I clung to that, partly because it was comfortable and partly because I didn’t know what else to do.” Tonraq takes a deep breath. “And after--after your mother and I realized what you were, I tried to fall back to some sense of tradition, some guidance. Someone to tell me how to help you.” 

He’s stopped completely, almost at the house, and she has too. “I thought that pushing Tenzin to help you, giving you advice--it would help, somehow,” he mutters, digging into the snow with his boot. “I just didn’t want you to feel lost like I did, moving out here with your mother.”

Korra takes a deep breath. “I know you’re just trying to help, and honestly,” she turns to him, “I know what it feels like to be lost.” Her voice falters, and Tonraq sees her in her wheelchair, staring at nothing. He shivers. “But I--I really like Asami, dad. I want to be with her.”

“I know, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I just need some time.”

“We’ll be leaving for the city soon, so you’ll have a lot of time,” Korra replies. “And I do listen to other people, you know, occasionally. When they say something helpful.”

Senna is waving at them angrily, Asami standing awkwardly next to her. Reluctantly, the two of them start walking again. His backside is stiff and cold from sitting on the cliff.

Tonraq looks over at his daughter, half illuminated by the house lights, as unwavering in her convictions as she’s ever been. “I might not always agree with how you handle everything thrown your way, but I am still so proud of you,” he offers. 

“Thanks, dad,” Korra mumbles.

They reach the house and Senna shoos them into the living room, glaring at him. “Where have you been,” she demands, “just walking off like that?”

Tonraq pulls off his boots and sinks into a chair. “Dad and I were talking,” Korra starts, “and we’ve...made up, I think.” She glances at him.

Tonraq nods and turns to the Sato girl--to Asami. “I’m sorry for walking off,” he offers, “I needed some time to process everything.”

Asami smiles fondly. “Korra’s the same way. Always led by emotion.” Her green eyes widen. “Not that, I mean, you have a temper or anything--” 

Tonraq laughs. “No, no, you’re right. She is a bit hotheaded,” he says. Korra huffs behind him.

He clears his throat. “Take care of each other, please. The Avatar can never have too many people looking out for them, right?”

If the heiress is thrown by his sudden effort, she doesn’t show it. “Of course.”

Korra leaps up. “Well we’d better go, mom, dad. The city is waiting for us.” She leads Asami to get their coats, and Senna follows Tonraq to the door, used to their daughter’s abruptness.

“Thank you for everything,” Asami says, looking slightly relieved. At leaving or at Tonraq’s sudden effort to approve of the pair, he isn’t sure.

Senna and him bid them well and help the two onto their giant sky bison, along with plenty of leftovers. Tonraq watches them go until the bison is a white speck in the sky. He can feel Senna’s raised eyebrow before he sees it.

“I just need some time,” Tonraq mutters apologetically. To his surprise, Senna hugs him.

“I know,” she breathes. “But I think Asami will be good for Korra.”

“I hope so,” Tonraq says. If the heiress’s composure and apparent talent is anything to go by, he knows their daughter is in good hands. And if Korra trusts herself to do her Avatar duties her own way, then she can be with a woman, if she wants. And maybe it’s time for Tonraq to trust her, too.


End file.
